


Granted

by Resonant



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1999-11-04
Updated: 1999-11-04
Packaged: 2017-10-11 11:39:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/112034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Resonant/pseuds/Resonant
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A brief glimpse into the well-honed Ellison-Sandburg machine.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Granted

**Author's Note:**

> This story is old and no longer under warranty.

Ten. Nine. Eight. Jim finished pouring the herbal tea and fitted the top on the travel cup. Six. Five. Bagel, toasted, plain, wrapped in a napkin. Two. One. 

And right on cue, a great eruption of sound: pounding footsteps on the stairs down from the loft, the hiss of a backpack strap sliding onto a shoulder, Blair's voice breathy with haste: "... goddamn fucking snooze button, shit, shit, late again, fifteen minutes and they cancel the class, shit, no time for breakfast, Jim, sorry ..." 

Through some sort of instinctive calculus Jim knew exactly where Blair's gesticulating hands would be when he hit the foot of the stairs, and he put the cup in one of them and the bagel in the other, then added keys on top of the bagel, without even interrupting the wave, so that Blair was out the door and halfway down the hall before he realized he was holding breakfast. Jim heard his steps pause, and there was a smile in the voice that sent back: "Ah, Jim, man, you're the best," before the steps picked up again and Blair hurried away. 

* * *

"Chief, you had a long day. How about we ..." 

"No way, man." 

"I don't mind. Some other time you can ..." 

"I said no _way. _A promise is a promise." 

"Look, I'm not all that sore. And you have to be up early in the morning. One more day won't ..." 

"Jim. Shirt off. Now." Was it the Guide voice? Jim didn't know; he pretty much went with what Blair told him these days, no matter what voice he used. 

But that didn't mean he couldn't complain. "Sandburg, it's already ten, and you" -- his words were muffled as his T-shirt came off over his head -- "can give me a backrub any day, you know, I don't ..." But warm hands were already digging into his lower back, just above the waistband of his jeans, and whatever else he had planned to say was drowned out in a moan of relief. 

* * *

As soon as Simon put down one phone, someone pushed another one into his hands. "Ellison!" he shouted. "Look, we've got an emergency. Hostage situation, disgruntled employee. Need you on this one, but there's a problem." 

"Yeah?" Jim was already putting his coat on. "So what's the problem?" 

"Noise," Simon said. "It's down on the factory floor at Joliff Parts, and even people with normal hearing have to wear ear protection. Don't want to send you out there by yourself if you're going to be zoning on me." 

"Sandburg and I are on it," Jim said with certainty. "He'll be pulling up in ... seven minutes. I'll just grab him and go." 

"Seven minutes? How can you know that?" 

Jim frowned. "I don't know." He thought about it. "I can hear his car," he said finally. "I can hear where it is, and I can hear how fast he's driving and calculate." 

"And you know it's his car because ..." 

"I don't know." Another frown. "Yes, I do. That old beater of his, the timing is kind of ... distinctive. It's like the car has its own heartbeat." 

Simon sighed. "Whatever. Six and a half minutes. Get out of here." 

* * *

"Hey, Jim, man, bought you something." Blair grinned at Jim from the kitchen. Jim dropped his keys in the basket and followed a really appetizing smell across the room. 

"Is that it cooking?" 

"Naw, this is just a little stir-fry. It's in that bag over there." 

Jim pulled the soft bundle out of the bag and unfolded it. A denim shirt. His face was very still, but his eyes were smiling. 

"Saw the other one in the garbage. Finally bit the dust, huh?" Blair checked the rice, then turned off the burner. "So I figured you'd need a replacement." 

"You do know Carolyn gave me that other shirt, don't you?" 

"Yeah," Blair said, wrapping his arms around Jim's waist from behind. "I can stake a claim as good as anybody." 

* * *

"Ah, god. Jim, that's ... almost ... I need ..." 

"Like this?" 

Gasp. "Yeah. Jim, god. Need you to ..." 

"Spread a little more, drop down, yeah, like that ..." 

" ... tilt up a little higher -- yes! Yes yes yes. You can ..." 

"Can I go ..." 

"... go harder, I won't break ..." 

" ... a little harder, oh god, you feel ... 

" ... feels so good, Jim, almost there ... " 

" ... like everything, like perfect, like home ... oh, fuck, I'm ... " 

"Jim!" 

* * *

The door hadn't even swung shut before Blair was enclosed in strong arms with his nose pressed against a broad chest. He pulled back for a split second, then gave in, collapsing into that warm embrace and sighing gustily. 

After a few moments of silence, he tipped his head back. "How'd you know I needed that?" 

"Could hear it in your walk," Jim said, hand coming up to stroke Blair's hair. 

"I can't believe you dared, man," Blair said. "This scowl has been scaring people off all day." 

"I didn't even look at you," Jim said. "Lemme see it." 

Blair tried, but a grin kept breaking through. 

* * *

[ring] 

"Ellison." 

"Hey, it's me." 

"I know. You left them on the coffee table." 

"Oh, shit, that's a relief. I thought I'd lost them." 

"Yeah. So listen, what time ..." 

"Sevenish, unless you need to change clothes first." 

"Right. Which reminds me ..." 

"Already got 'em. They're in the car. But they couldn't get that spot out of your jacket." 

"Damn." 

"Well, you know, mustard and motor oil is a pretty potent combination." 

"I guess. OK, see you at home around seven." 

[click] 

[ring] 

"Blair Sandburg's office." 

"Hey, I just remembered, could you pick up some ..." 

"Regular or decaf?" 

"Now that you mention it, we're almost out of both." 

* * *

"Hey, Jim?" They were lying on the couch, too tired to pay attention to television but too lazy to get up and do something. 

"Mmm?" 

"You know Rhonda's husband?" 

"Glen? Met him once or twice. Why?" 

"She tracked down some files for me today, and I told her she'd saved me a ton of time, and she said it was nice to get some appreciation for a change. Said a week might go by without Glen ever saying thank you." 

"Hm. Now that you mention it, I was at a party with them once, and she brought him a drink, and he never even looked at her." Jim moved Blair's feet from his lap, picked up a dropped grape, and replaced the feet, running a thumb firmly over one arch just to hear Blair sigh. 

"Jim?" 

"Mmm?" 

"You think we take each other for granted?" 

"No. Not at all," Jim said firmly, and began to rub the other foot.

**Author's Note:**

> It was inspired by an episode, but not quite in the usual way. I was new to Sentinel fandom and hadn't seen very many eps, and I commented to several people that I just couldn't see a lot of romantic subtext between Jim and Blair, and people kept telling me, "Watch 'Poachers.' You'll see it in 'Poachers.' "
> 
> So I watched "Poachers," and for cryin' out loud, Jim lets a door shut in Blair's face! And Blair doesn't even seem to notice! It was not at all the lovely example of domestic tranquility and easy intimacy that I had been led to expect. So I felt compelled to fix it.
> 
> Allisan betaed this story at the speed of light.


End file.
